


Living on the Bottom

by Bard_of_Heart



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - No Sgrub Session, Hemospectrum, M/M, Red Romance, Troll Romance, Trollstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bard_of_Heart/pseuds/Bard_of_Heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vantas sighed, loud and long, like he was dealing with a particularly pan damaged recruit. “Daeyvh Strider. You are one of the priority targets of the Threshecutioners and the Subjuggulators, simply because your death defying feats are getting on their nerves. It’s a god damn miracle the Laughassassins haven’t already gotten involved in your pursuit and capture. You are wanted for the crime of having blood abhorrent to Her Imperious Condescension, and you have narrowly escaped capture, trial, and culling at the hands of our Empire on numerous occasions. If I wanted to, I could march you back to my squad, and escort you to the nearest Legislacerator just dying to see your neck in their noose. You. Need. My. Help.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt on the kink meme:
> 
> [In which Karkat encounters the only other red-blooded troll on Alternia. Surely it must be serendipity.](http://homesmut.dreamwidth.org/39716.html?thread=43806756#cmt43806756)

Your name is Daeyvh Strider and you are fucked. Well, you’ve kind of been fucked since you hatched, but hey, you can deal. Gives you an excuse to be a loner because other trolls don’t really get you anyway, and you’ve got a great body from all the running your fucking ass off you have to do. You also have the best lusus ever, like seriously, if lusii could win prizes, yours would get gold in every category. Sure he’s not some huge monstrosity, but he’s fierce, and he’s pretty much the whole reason why up until this point you’ve actually stayed alive.

Your lusus warned you he was coming. He always does. That’s what makes him the most kickass lusus ever. He’s like a crazy cool ninja, in and out no problem, constantly scouting ahead of you and watching your back so you don’t go stumbling into a situation half-assed. He’d been checking behind you for any pursuers, and when you spotted him above you, you paused just long enough to allow him to perch on your arm before you continued your trek through your planet’s diverse and generally obnoxious landscape. Usually, he sits and preens for a while, and maybe once or twice you’d give him a little snack for a job well done and a couple much deserved head pats. You could tell something was wrong when instead of relaxing like usual he tilted his head and pointed behind you with his beak.

You were being followed. Fuck.

One thing that’s not so cool about your lusus is that despite the huge tactical advantage he provides you, he can’t tell you who is following you. It could be threshecutioners, legislacerators, subjuggulators, some crazy high blood on a rampage, or just some idiot admiring your plush posterior. The options are limitless, really. He also can’t communicate just how many shiny new stalkers you’ve gained all that well either. You were going to teach him to peck you for every pursuer, but when you’re running for your life from twenty-four bloodthirsty creeps, the pecking gets old real fast.

You just tend to assume there are at least six trolls hauling ass after you. That’s the typical size for a flaysquad, compromised of a leader, his second-in-command, a scout, a tracker, and combat specialist. It’s rare for it to be only one troll coming after you, because you’re fast enough to discourage even the most persistent pursuers, and usually they don’t have much motivation besides general hatred of lowbloods and or highblood rage. You never stay in one place long enough to give them another reason to want to hunt you down. The douchebags that make stupid comments about your rack usually give up the chase the quickest.

Law enforcement and Alternian military? That’s different. These guys hate your guts, and have an actual reason for it. Even though it’s not really a valid one if you have half a thinkpan, which these losers clearly don’t, it keeps them motivated enough that you’re constantly on your guard. Also, there are a lot of them, and they have access to all of the Empire’s resources.

So, yeah, “oh fuck no,” is generally your reaction when you find out you have a tail. But usually it’s no big deal. What was different was that you couldn’t seem to shake him. You call yourself Strider for a good reason. (Yeah, you picked your own name. And yeah, you purposefully made it one letter too long, because fuck the system. Also Strider sounds way better than Stride, okay.) Subjuggulators usually aren’t the fastest bunch. They’re built for close range combat aka brawls and hitting people really hard with clubs. Legislacerators tend to stick to their desks and their courtroom executions, but every once in a while one will try their luck with you. They’re crafty and quick little bastards when they want to be, but they’re no match for you in terms of endurance. Threshecutioners give you the most trouble by far, especially because those god damn trackers always fucking find your trail somehow, but you always lose them eventually by being a little crafty about doubling back and using the terrain to your advantage. Also concentrating harder on not being so embarrassingly transparent about what direction you’re headed in. Normally, it takes you no longer than a week to lose a threshecutioner squad.

You couldn’t lose him. You tried all your usual tricks, but he was determined. You tried to outmaneuver, outrun, just plain lose the bastard, but nothing worked. You were getting desperate, and you were running out of supplies. So, you turned to your last option. You decided to stand your ground and fight. Normally, you’d avoid this option at all costs. If you had any choice in the matter, you kept running. That was your philosophy. But it had been almost three weeks of running, and your food supplies were dwindling because you’d been hauling major ass, and you hadn’t had time to stop and hunt or look for a source of water. You couldn’t rely on your emergency supplies forever.

Plus, even though running was what you excelled at, your swordplay had served you well in the past. You’d come out with a few scars in combat encounters, but alive and not followed for a while, and that’s what counts.

Your lusus got his feathers all ruffled about your little siesta, of course. He knew it was the shittiest idea you’d had to date to sit and wait like a sitting quackbeast ready for the slaughter. Being caught happened rarely, but it had happened to you before, and that’s where you put your combat skills to the test in the past. You had never just stopped and waited like this before. But at the time, you thought you were waiting for a flaysquad of threshecutioners. Those bozos you could have taken on, easy. You didn’t realize one hyper determined Captain Karkat Vantas was in hot pursuit until it was much, much too late.

So, unaware and stupidly optimistic, you’d found a small brook and filled your water container, ate a delicious fresh meal, and even constructed a temporary shelter. Your lusus got over his concern eventually, and even caught himself a small fish or two while you waited. You didn’t have to wait long. You weren’t lying when you said Vantas was in hot pursuit. He arrived just two days behind you. Captain Vantas was, and still is, startling in person. He’s tall and muscular, with arms that made you insanely jealous and curse your scrawny build, but with tiny little nub horns and dull almost round fangs that were probably photo shopped like crazy in the magazines. His eyes are the most shocking thing of all, because he’s clearly an adult troll in his prime, but his eyes are the glistening soft silver of early adolescence. Also, his ass is fantastic. You know this because when he fucking flipped you over his shoulder you had a nice view of it for about two seconds before he whirled around, grabbed your motherfucking horns, and pinned you to the ground.

Yes, pinned you. Embarrassingly fast, actually. You have to admit, you sort of underestimated him. Mostly because he’s just one troll, a very attractive buff troll yes, but you’re used to fighting whole flaysquads at a time and coming out on top, so you weren’t really concerned when you were taking him on by himself.

The first thing Karkat Vantas said to you was your name, phrased like a question, despite the fact that he obviously knew who he was chasing. He was clearly not outwardly looking for a fight. One hand was raised in papping position and though he was grasping the handle of his sickle with the other hand, the blade was carefully turned down. His defensive stance, of course, just made you attack him faster. You take just about any disadvantage your opponents will give you. He didn’t rise that far in the ranks by accident, though. He catches your blade with his sickle with an unholy screech of metal on metal.

“Daeyvh,” he said, “I didn’t come here to fight you.”

“Bullshit.” You showed him your fangs, which are way more impressive than his for the record, and wrenched your blade away from his. “You don’t want to talk. You want to cull me and bring my fucking head to the Empress yourself, right? Get yourself a big promotion?” You struck out at his right side, because he was still only holding the one blade in his left, but he whirled and parried. “You want to be the guy that caught that thorn in the Empire’s side, the kid no flaysquad has ever caught. That’s your story. I know your fucking type.”

“Daeyvh,” Vantas said again, and backs up, sickle up, but with the blade turned stubbornly to the side. “I know what this looks like, but I swear I’m not here to cull you.”

It is in this moment, when you were busy laughing at the incredulousness of this guy, because really, how stupid did he think you were, that your lusus made his move. He’s best at sudden aerial attacks, and Karkat was clearly not expecting to be attacked from above because by the time he had the good sense to look up, your lusus was about two feet away from his nose. While Karkat was distracted, you charged in again, and struck out with fast little jabs at Vantas’ sides. He’s quick though, even with his vision mostly obscured by your lusus’ threat ruffled feathers and he manages to block your attacks. God damn, he’s good.

This all came to a halt of course, when he snatched your lusus by the fucking wings, clamped a hand over his beak, and thrust him in the path of your blade. You froze of course because there’s no fucking way you’re going to hurt your lusus. Check mate.

“Now,” he said, panting hard, “are you ready to listen to me yet?”

You glare at him in answer.

“Right. First off, motherfucker, I told you I wanted to talk. I am not the sort of guy that takes a lusus hostage, alright, but this is ridiculous. Secondly, what the fuck are you doing with some poor kid’s lusus in the first place?”

“He’s mine,” you growled, “Now give him back.”

“So he can peck my oculars out? No thanks. Strider, what in the seven hells are you doing with a lusus at your age? How is he even able to attack me? Lusii never live this long, and he moves like he’s still in his prime!” He seemed genuinely puzzled. He even took his freaky wriggler eyes off you for a second and studied your lusus, who looked ready to murder Karkat by himself.

“Yeah, well, he stuck around, and he’s pretty active. Do you have a problem with my lusus or do you have a problem with me?” Looking back, that was just about the stupidest line you’ve ever uttered, and you’ve come up with some pretty stupid shit. You were under pressure, and you were fucking terrified for your lusus, so you’re going to cut yourself some slack. But seriously. To be fair, this had never happened before. Your attackers were always too focused on you, and your lusus was normally great at knowing exactly when to pull back from an attack.

“Alright,” Karkat said, “If you promise he won’t attack as soon as I release him, I’ll let him loose. Like I said, I didn’t come here to manhandle your lusus. I want to talk, that’s all.” You nodded, and Karkat let go of your lusus. You were half convinced he wouldn’t come, as pissed as he was at Vantas, but when you held out your arm for him, he flew over, settled, and preened, as if to say ‘fuck you.’

Karkat breathed an audible sigh of relief, and you had to snicker a little. “Are you going to cooperate now?”

“Sure, why not,” you replied. “What exactly does a hot shot threshecutioner like yourself want with me, if not to rejoice in executing me?”

Karkat set down his sickle. You took note of this, but didn’t lower your sword in kind. “My name’s Karkat Vantas. I’m here to help you.”

“And what motivation would you have for doing that? Don’t pretend your flaysquad isn’t lying in wait nearby, just drooling all over themselves in anticipation of my capture.” Karkat took a few careful steps closer to you, arms raised in a placating gesture. Your lusus wasn’t convinced and took to the sky, prepared to divebomb Karkat again if he needed to. You pressed your blade against Vantas’ throat.

He swallowed, but his intense expression didn’t falter. “They aren’t. I came alone, because like I keep saying, I want to talk to you, not slice you from thinkpan to bulge. If that’s what I wanted, I would have killed you already.”

“You didn’t answer my first question. What is your god damned motivation for not culling me?”

There was a tense moment where the two of you made eye contact; his fierce, too serious eyes colored wriggler silver, and your freaky mutant peepers, still obscured behind your shades were locked for a split second. In the next, he knocked the blade out of your hands, and you reacted on instinct, digging your claws into his throat.

And-

His blood.

Impossible.

Just like yours.

While you were still stunned, he found it appropriate to flip you over his shoulder. You hit the ground hard, still reeling. Then, he turned, and snatched your horns. He straddled your chest, and leaned over you. A few droplets of mutant blood fell onto your shirt.

“Now,” he said, his panting loud in your ears, “Are you ready to talk? Can we discuss this like civilized beings or are you still convinced that I’m out for your blood?”

“That last thing,” you muttered, and his mouth twitched, caught between a smile and a grimace.

“Are you incapable of accepting help?”

“I don’t _need_ your help. As far as I’m concerned, I was doing just fine until you refused to stop following me, held my lusus hostage, and pinned me down by my god damn horns.”

Vantas sighed, loud and long, like he was dealing with a particularly pan damaged recruit. “Daeyvh Strider. You are one of the priority targets of the Threshecutioners and the Subjuggulators, simply because your death defying feats are getting on their nerves. It’s a god damn miracle the Laughassassins haven’t already gotten involved in your pursuit and capture. You are wanted for the crime of having blood abhorrent to Her Imperious Condescension, and you have narrowly escaped capture, trial, and culling at the hands of our Empire on numerous occasions. If I wanted to, I could march you back to my squad, and escort you to the nearest Legislacerator just dying to see your neck in their noose. You. Need. My. Help.”

“Not interested.” You turned your face away from his.

His hands tightened on your horns, and then relaxed. “Fine, but before I let you up, I’m going to warn you. Someday, they’ll realize they’re wasting far too much time and resources on you. They’ll send in some of our best women and men, who are considerably more skilled in combat then I am, and they won’t have any qualms about killing you right there on the spot, no trial, and certainly no mercy. In short, if you keep going the way you are, you’re a dead troll walking.”

“Don’t you think I know this already?” You snapped, “Don’t you think I don’t dream about my death every fucking day?”

“Let me help you,” Karkat said, “and you won’t have to. Let me help you and you won’t have to run anymore.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Impossible?” He said, and grinned. “A mutant living in plain sight is impossible? Well check your fucking facts Strider, because it’s possible, and I’m doing it.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

It’s been a week since Karkat Vantas grinned at you and told you he was a mutant living in plain sight. In that time, the two of you have spoken very little. Karkat keeps trying to initiate conversation, but as far as you’re concerned, there’s little to talk about. The fact that you’re both mutants doesn’t mean shit. He’s not your friend, and you don’t trust him. But as you found out pretty quickly, he keeps a watchful eye on you night and day, and all your attempts to escape didn’t end in your favor.

Either you’re going where Karkat wants to go, which hopefully will not lead to you being culled, or you’re going to get killed trying and failing to escape from him. You think you’ve chosen the better option.

When you make out the city in the distance, you kind of have a freak out. You know from experience you don’t do well in cities. Too many people to piss off and too many obstacles to avoid cutting yourself on for your taste. Karkat doesn’t take your protest into consideration, of course. He assures you that unless you are completely inept and there’s something deeply wrong with your thinkpan, you’re going to be fine.

You aren’t convinced.

“Just act natural. And stay close,” Karkat says, “And keep your lusus hidden.” To your lusus’ displeasure, you stowed him in your sylladex as soon as the city came in sight. You don’t like it much either, but an adult with a lusus is bound to catch some attention, and that’s not something you need. In fact, that’s pretty much the exact opposite of what you need. Like if what you need is the ice cold chill that cholerbears prefer, then that city is the flaming disaster-central ball of gas that comes out during the day. Yeah.

The city you’re headed for is adjacent to a space port, which is where Karkat leads you first, so it’s crowded. Really crowded. Troll Chris Brown on a flaming tricycle you’re going to die.

This is a considerably different from your wrigglerhood hive and lawnring. Cities are where adults live when they aren’t shipped out to conquer and explore other planets. Basically, adults that unlike you don’t have an illegal blood mutation and their wrigglerhood lusus as their only companion. This city in particular seems to be for the fairly well off. You doubt many high bloods would want to live so close to a port, what with all the noise and the traffic, but it’s a perfect location for midbloods who generally have jobs that involve having some sort of shenanigans off planet.

This place is probably a hot spot for threshecutioners, since they’re often the first force deployed if a hostile planet’s been discovered. There’s bound to be legislacerators too. Coming here is probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. You try to keep your head down and keep moving forward, but you keep getting stopped when someone who knows Karkat wants to chat. He keeps the two of you moving, though, exchanging only a few words with his friend before he’s motioning you on again.

At one point, a whole flaysquad comes marching up and stops to talk to Karkat, and you have to clench your fists hard to keep from bolting away.

“Hey, Vantas, who’s that with you?” You gaze snaps up to the green blooded Captain that’s asked. You’re pretty sure you are two seconds away from being beheaded with the sickles at her belt.

“A friend of mine from out of town,” Karkat replies, cool as a goddamn phallic-shaped vegetable. “He’s not used to dealing with you chucklefucks and your lack of regard for personal space. He grew up in the country.”

“Oh?” The green blood gives you a curious once over. “What’s he done with his symbol? You ought to warn him things may be different in the country, but we wear our symbols around here. He doesn’t want to get mixed up with the wrong crowd, or give anyone any ideas.”

“He’s going to see my tailor,” Vantas crosses his arms over his chest. You can almost hear the glare in his voice. “And until then, he’s with me.”

“Taking him under your wing, huh? Feeling the stirrings of pity, maybe?” She laughs. “He’s cute, Vantas, keep him around.” You’re not sure if you want to punch her out or sink to the bottom of the ocean to be eaten by seadwellers.

“I said a friend, Tynisa, knock it off!” Karkat punches her shoulder, and she laughs again. “You’ve got to fill a pail sometime or another Vantas. The pedigree’s almost over. The mothergrub only knows how you made it through drone season last year, you prude,” She says, and punches back. “Hey, see you at the meeting tonight, yeah?”

“Fuck.” He groans.

“Vantas, did you forget again? Do I need to punch meeting times into your pan?”

“Shut up Tynisa, who was the one who kept you from walking into a meeting with your uniform inside out? I had to help you change in the god damn hallway.” Karkat says, and the green blood turns a truly unattractive puke green color.

“Vantas,” she hisses, “I thought I asked you not to mention that.” She jerks her head back at her squad, all of which look to be various degrees of uncomfortable.

Karkat awkwardly clears his throat. “Anyway. I’ll be there. At the meeting. I might be a little late. I’ve got to take care of a few things first.”

“Sure, whatever Vantas, just get your glutes over there in twenty minutes, or Major Rabuea is going to kick your ass.”Karkat and the squad exchange salutes, and then he’s urging you forward again.

“Nice one.” You whisper into his aural shell, and he mumbles a few choice curse words, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“We’re almost there,” he says, softly, and walks at a brisker pace for another couple of blocks. Wherever he’s bringing you is further inside the city, thank god, so it’s less crowded then it was dockside. It’s only when he’s fishing in his sylladex for the key that you realize that this is actually his hive that he’s taken you to.

He finds the key and shoves it in the lock, and presses his thumb to the scanner.The door slides open, and you dart inside, eager to escape the curious faces outside.

He follows you inside at a considerably slower pace, shuts the door, locks it, and then all the air whooshes out of him. “We made it. Fuck, I am never doing that again.”

“You okay, dude?” You have to ask, because it looks like he’s about to keel over. He seemed cheery enough talking to his colleagues on the way over here, but apparently, he was just as nervous as you were.

“I’m fine.” He says, “Welcome to my hive. This is where you’re going to be staying until further notice, so make yourself comfortable.”

There’s a loud beeping from his palmhusk, and he checks it, frowning at the screen.

“I-fuck, I have to go. You stay in the hive. Don’t go anywhere. If you’re going to let your lusus out, make sure to close the blinds on the windows so no one sees him. I’ll be back.”

Has he lost it? You’re going to be alone in his hive. Granted, you can’t actually leave, since you’d need his thumbprint or a thumbprint of someone else in Karkat’s system to get the door to open, and the windows aren’t large enough for you to crawl out of. Still, you could get up to some trouble in here.

“If you trash my place, I’m going to be seriously pissed,” he says, as if he’s reading your mind. “So please, save me the trouble of forcing you to clean up your mess like you’re a disobedient wriggler, and don’t mess with my shit.”

“Roger that.” You say, and salute.

His palm beeps again. He swears and attempts to brush dirt off of his uniform. It’s pretty dirty, since he’s been walking around in it all night. Usually you’re way dirtier than you are now, but Karkat insisted you needed to blend, so you changed into something cleaner. Personally, you think it was more about the fact that Karkat’s bright red blood is still staining the shirt you had been wearing up until two days before you arrived in the city.

Karkat finally gives up on his uniform and steps outside. “If anyone comes by, don’t even think about opening the door. I’ll be back soon.” With that, the door closes and locks.

This is weird. You hardly know Karkat and he could report you any time he wants. He’s a mutant like you. That doesn’t mean shit, except that you have an advantage over him. If he reports you, you can reveal his little secret, and provide proof. They probably wouldn’t listen to your accusations. Maybe the two of you are at a stale mate.

You figure it’s pointless freaking out about this shit and instead decide if Karkat left you alone in his hive, you might as well enjoy the perks. It’s time for a self-guided tour of Captain Vantas’ sweet pad.

You wander into Karkat’s office first. You’d like to say that you didn’t do some snooping, but you totally did. Come on, he could have some top secret info on you in here. It always helps to know what the enemy knows about you, and all that jazz. Before you get to into looking around though, you go and close the blinds on the windows so you can release your lusus. He startles a little at the sight of your new surroundings, but after flying around a little, he settles down and perches on your shoulder.

Once you start digging around in Vantas’ desk drawers, it’s very hard not to notice the clipping. It’s framed, which catches your attention because there aren’t any frames on Karkat’s wall, only memos and scrawling handwritten notes. It’s buried under a mess of papers, but you pull it out. It’s an article, and it looks as though someone took one claw and pointedly shredded certain words. The glossy beetle hide page implies it was taken out of some sort of magazine, not a newspaper. The page is split into four columns, with a picture at the top of each column. You don’t recognize any faces, until you get to the last photo.

Karkat, sickles out, glaring at the camera. Shirtless. Holy fuck, this picture is like something out of Hatestud Magazine. You hope it’s not actually from Hatestud. The headline reads “Young Adults to Watch” and the subheadlines are names; Laughassassin Mityra Saryee [Ind], Hunterorrist Zaythn Taquen [Blu], Legislacerator Sarthe Znarse [Olv], and Threshecutioner Karkat Vantas [Rst]. You read Karkat’s column.

“ _Karkat Vantas makes the list of young adults to watch for good looks, skill in combat, and mystery appe-._ ” Part of the word’s been clawed out. You keep reading. “ _Vantas joined the Threshecutioner Corps of Our Most Glorious Empress at a mere eight sweeps, and since then, has risen in the ranks to become Captain of a flaysquad of his own in only two sweeps, an accom- that puts him firmly among the youngest threshecutioners to achieve the Captain rank. This is not his most s-tling feat, however. Karkat Vantas has been nicknamed ‘Captain -uchable’ by members of his flaysquad because throughout his tenure as a member of the Threshecutioners, Vantas has never once sustained an injury beyond minor bruising. No troll has ever accompli- this at his rank, or managed to remain in active duty for two sweeps without any sort of lacerations._

_It’s a truly awe- feat, especially considering Vantas’ position on the Hemospectrum. There has been some debate over whether or not Vantas is actually a rust blood. Some have speculated that for unknown reasons he may be concealing his true high status._ ” Scrawled in the margins is the word “Ha,” written in all caps. “ _The fact that no one has ever witnessed Vantas bleeding adds plausibility to this claim._

_Vantas declined to comment on his -cess, but Zhayed Harley [Olv], acting scout for Vantas’ flaysquad shared her knowledge of his intreg- skill. ‘I don’t think he actually meant for anyone to notice that he’d never gotten injured. But he’s hard not to notice, especially when he’s in our faces all the time barking orders, and you start to wonder when the fuck he is going to get injured so we can have a break, you know? He’s really obnoxious sometimes, but he’s really talented, and I’m honored to have him as my squad Captain._ ’”

Curiously, Harley’s praise is completely unedited, even though it’s obvious by now that the words being filtered out are those that are complimenting Karkat’s skill. A quadrantmate? But then, if they were official, the article would doubtless have mentioned it. Maybe it’s just a one-sided thing, or maybe they just hadn’t acted on their feelings? They’re probably official by now, since on closer inspection it’s been several pedigrees since the article was written. God. Why the fuck are you wondering about Vantas’ quadrants? There are a lot of things in your private life you’d rather not have analyzed. It’s not your place to wonder.

You shove the article back in the drawer. You’re not sure how much more you could have read anyway. Those little rips are like a window into Karkat’s soul. You’re honestly shocked he’s kept the article, even if it was hidden in his desk drawer. His claws were meant to obscure, but instead, it makes his feelings painfully obvious. Literally every bit of praise beyond Zhayed’s quote has been painstakingly edited out of the text. This was deliberate, and he must have read through pretty carefully so he wouldn’t miss one.

Fuck. Your bloodpusher has no right doing a little jig in your chest. You need to clear your head, so you head further into Karkat’s hive.

The next block you find is the culinary block. You aren’t hungry, but you riffle through cabinets anyway. One cabinet contains nothing but candy and grub corn. Buff, super strong, gruff Captain Vantas likes movies. Seriously? The sink is overflowing with dirty dishes, and on closer inspection, his utensil drawer is pretty barren. He must wash them, use them, and then drop them in the sink again. This is cool with you, because that’s pretty much exactly what you do.

He’s got a sweet set up in the recreation block. Wide screen TV, shelves upon shelves of movies. There’s a bowl on the reclining seating platform that’s full of grub corn kernels and candy wrappers. God, that TV. It’s calling your name. Well, it’s not like he’s here to keep you from using his stuff. Why not?

Your search for the remote proves fruitless for a while, but you manage to locate it underneath the reclining seating platform. Click. The sound comes out loud, so much so that you’re startled at first. Your lusus caws, irritated, so you don’t flop down onto the reclining seating platform like you were planning on, and instead settle down slowly so you don’t jostle him too much.

“ _Zhalit, I can’t let you go. What will I do if you don’t return?_ ” A teal blood is clinging to a buff indigo blood. He has freakily white teeth, like damn, does this dude even eat? Maybe he’s got a crazy toothpick collection?

The indigo dips his head and leans in for a kiss. “ _Have I ever failed you? I will fight my hardest to return to you_.” Whoa, what a cheesy line. Is this a romance movie or a setup for a terrible porno? The way they’re smooching and clinging to each other, you’re not sure.

“ _I-I pity you! I’ve always pitied you._ ” Oh god, is the teal blood crying now? Yep, he totally is. Gross, he’s getting snot all over his romantic interest. That’s got to be all kinds of nasty, unless that dude’s into snot, which you’re pretty sure he’s not, but hey, he could be you don’t judge.

“ _I know. Don’t worry, I’ll return by pedigree’s end. Stay close to your moirail. She will ensure your safety._ ”

This movie is complete shit. Before you have a chance to look for something more appealing, though, you hear the sound of a doorbell. That wasn’t part of the movie. It sounds again, and again, and then, you hear a voice.

“Karkat! I know you are in there. I can hear your movie playing from here.” They speaker pauses for a moment. “Karkat! I am prepared to take your door down if you do not hurry up.” They seem to be waiting for a response which you aren’t going to give them. Please let them go away. “Fine. I am coming in. I hope you’re decent in there!” There is the sharp sound of a key turning in the lock. Evidently, whoever’s at the door is someone Karkat trusts, which means you’re in serious trouble if they find you in here. They might just assume you’re here to wreck the place or steal his shit, and you do not have the energy to deal with those accusations right now. You stow your lusus in your sylladex again. Time to hightail it out of here.

You scramble to find a place to hide, but Karkat’s hive is still relatively unfamiliar to you, and when you sprint to the hallway to get out of his recreation block, because that’ll be the first place the stranger will look, there is already someone staring at you from the other end of the hallway.

Her symbol is printed in teal. No. You are in an enclosed space. You don’t know the area. You can’t risk staying here, but going outside would be even more perilous. You’re trapped.

‘I didn’t come this far just to die,’ you think, frantic. There must be a way out of this situation. Then you realize it’s possible she hasn’t heard of you. The media would have blown up about a dangerous mutant on the loose by now if you weren’t classified information. You just need to act natural. You take a deep breath, and hope your voice doesn’t sound too freaked out. “Sup.”

She stares straight at you for long enough to thoroughly freak you out. Her eyes are hidden behind red shades, but you know she’s looking right at you. She scents the air, and shakes her head. “Well. I see Karkat has decided to ignore my advice yet again. Hello, Daeyvh.”

You’ve made a critical error. You saw her symbol, but in your panic, you didn’t look at her uniform. She’s a legislacerator, a high ranking one, at that. You should have run while you had the chance. You hope Karkat won’t cull you for getting blood all over his hallway.

“Hey. Looks like you caught me red handed officer.” You draw your blade.

She laughs, high pitched and rough on your auricular sponge clots. “Red handed! You are pretty funny, Daeyvh Strider.” She draws her own weapon, a blade, thinner than yours, closer to a rapier. The blade's necessarily thin, since it was concealed in a thin sheath made to seem like a cane. Despite it's size, you have no doubt that thing could do some serious damage in the right hands.

“I have to admit I am curious how you managed to avoid capture for quite so long," She says, drawling the words. "Your record shows you hardly used Trollian at all. If we follow that piece of data to its logical conclusion, we find you with little to no connections, which means you have been evading capture based on your own abilities alone."

She grins, wide and threatening. "This should be fun.”


	3. Chapter 3

You’re at a severe disadvantage here, and you know it. In Karkat’s narrow hallway, there’s hardly any room to maneuver, which means your speed is practically useless to you, and your larger, heavier blade will be harder to work with than your opponent’s thinner weapon.

As you parry the legislacerator’s blade, you retreat down the hallway, slowly, one step at a time. If you can just lead her into Karkat’s recreation block, you’ll have a great deal more room, but if you’re too obvious about this, she’ll do her utmost to keep you in this cramped space. 

Her blade whistles by your ear, and your bloodpusher picks up in your chest. She obviously didn’t rely on her blood color to help her through the ranks. Normally, you’d take a moment to give her a mental fist bump for that, but right now, she’s trying to kill you, so no fistbumps are to be had. You could use a distraction, but after what happened last time, you’re reluctant to let your lusus help you in combat, especially since there isn’t open sky for him to escape to.

Instead, you open your big mouth. “So, a hotshot legislacerater with a key to Captain Vantas’ place. Sounds like something steamy is going on behind closed doors.”

Her mouth turns down at the corners. “Just because Karkat has achieved what you cannot, do you really think he is then miraculously out of danger? No, Daeyvh Strider, the closest that boy has come to a pail is when he was inside of one.” 

You try really hard not to laugh. That wouldn’t really be appropriate at the moment. “But he ascended!” You insist, blocking a strike that you can hear whistling through the air toward you. Fuck. “You have to contribute genetic material to ascend.” 

“Stupid, do you honestly think he would have been able to ascend if he gave out his genetic material? Use your pan!” You’ve pissed her off. She’s trying not to show it, but her attempts to stab you are just a touch quicker and more erratic. 

It’s really hard to think when you’re fighting for your life, but when it hits you what her words mean, you nearly take a hit you’re so distracted by your complete and utter shock. She knows. She knows Karkat’s a mutant too. 

Somehow, he made it through the drones without touching a pail. Remarkably, he was accepted into the Threshecutioner Corps. Impossibly, he’s managed to fool his squad, his superiors, and probably all the threshecutioners he knows, or at least the vast majority of them. 

He had help. Of course, he had help. It’s the only he could have managed this. If he managed to convince even just a highblood or two to help him, someone higher up in the ranks, his path could be made infinitely smoother. A wave of wild jealousy hits you like a ton of bricks. You could have had this. This could have been _you._

Rage makes the world condense to your blade and her, this traitor legislacerator, this hypocrite who would defend one mutant and cull another. You don’t give a shit about retreating anymore. Now, you’re pushing her the other way, forcing her to fall back against the onslaught of blows. There is fear in her expression now, and you relish it. 

You can faintly hear the sound of a key turning in a lock. The legislacerator stiffens. It doesn’t matter. You have a right to defend yourself, and you’ll cull Karkat too if he gets in your way. You are so fucking sick of having to hide and run away all the god damn time. If they want to kill you fine, but you’re not planning on making it easy for them. 

You strike out, and connect, at last, with flesh. Your blade’s sunk into the meat of her shoulder, and you can feel the moment where your sword strikes bone. She howls, and wrenches your weapon free with her bare hand. You can hear Karkat approaching at a run, his footfalls loud and obvious in his haste to reach the two of you. 

“Ungrateful,” she spits, as you watch teal blood stream down her arm. “You have no idea what he’s risked for you, and this is your thanks.” 

You response, something to the effect of ‘I really don’t give a shit what he’s risked for me’ is cut off by Karkat’s grand entrance. He comes around the corner at a sprint, and has to rapidly slow down to avoid colliding with the legislacerator’s back. His eyes have gone slit-pupiled with fear, though who he’s afraid for is currently up in the air. Both of his sickles are drawn, but the way he’s gripping them is too loose to indicate he wants to use them. They’re just there for show. 

“Terezi,” he says, softer than you were expecting, “Back off.” 

She doesn’t move an inch. She’s switched which hand is holding her blade, and she doesn’t take her eyes off you. “I didn’t ask for you to intervene Karkat.” 

“I didn’t ask for you to attack my guest in my fucking hive, Terezi. Stand down.” 

“Are you giving me orders, Captain Vantas? Let me remind you who outranks who, here.” Her voice is tight with barely controlled rage. Behind her, Karkat slowly sets down his blades. “That’s more like it, Captain. You are aware of the punishment for harboring a fugitive, are you not?” 

“Culling,” His voice is hollow. Holy shit, has he given up? Maybe your assumptions about the hypocrisy of this teal blood were wrong. She was just biding her time, waiting for Karkat to make a mistake. Two mutants with one stone. 

“That is correct.” Terezi turns to face Karkat. Her priority is changed. You watch, immobile, not five paces behind her. “And do you remember what I told you, when you first came to me with this pan-rotten imbecilic plan?” 

He bares his teeth at her. “I asked for your input and advice, not your permission.” 

“I told you not to go through with it, because it is quite possibly the stupidest plan you have ever concocted, and you have come up with some very stupid plans in your time, Karkat Vantas.” 

“Terezi,” he says, “You need a docterrorist.” 

“I need no such thing.” She snaps. “What I need is one good reason, one logical reason, why you went through with this.” 

“Terezi, you’re losing a lot of blood.” He attempts to steer her forward and gets a blade pointed at his chest as punishment. 

“I’m still waiting Karkat.” 

This is an absolute clusterfuck. You start backing steadily towards the end of the hallway. 

“Right,” Karkat says, jaw clenched. “Right, okay, fine. You wanted an explanation and you’ll get one. Did you ever think for a second Terezi, that I might be tired of listening to what you think is best for me? That I might get just a little sick of lying to everyone around me and knowing if I ever open up, I get a free ticket to death’s door? Did you ever think that maybe I felt really alone despite the fact that you guys are always pestering me, and I figured, if I was lucky, that a mutant like me might be able to understand things about myself that you and my other friends couldn’t?” His voice steadily rises in volume throughout his little tirade, and it gets to the point where you’re actually worried about his neighbors overhearing. Maybe he had his hive soundproofed. 

After Karkat’s spiel, Terezi turns away from him, and slowly makes her way towards you. Her step is determined, but her posture is rim-rod straight. It’s hard to tell what she’s looking at with her shades, and her gaze seems to be fixed straight ahead, but you know she’s not looking at you. You step to the side and let her pass you. 

A bout of silence fills the hallway. It is made worse by soft snuffling from the other room. You think Terezi might be trying not to cry. Karkat can hear her too, from the wrecked look on his face. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and sighs. “I didn’t want it to be like this.” 

“We can talk about this later,” You reply. “Right now, you need to patch things up with your girl, and also take a look at that shoulder. Sorry about that, by the way. I thought she was going to kill me.” 

Karkat gives you a grim look. “She was angry with me. That’s what this was about. She never had any intention of hurting you, she was just trying to burn off steam and get to me at the same time.” He looks at his feet, rubs at his eyes, and looks up at you again. “And she’s not my girl. We’re just friends. I’m going to check on her.” 

Once he passes you and exits the hallway after Terezi, you decide it’s probably better you move somewhere else so they can have their privacy. You’ve heard enough that should have been private already. Besides, you have a lot to think about. Since Terezi and Karkat have made the recreation block off limits and you don’t want to go into Karkat’s respiteblock or his office, you go into the culinary block for now. There’s probably a guest room around with your name on it (god you hope) but you don’t feel like exploring right now. 

You hop up onto Karkat’s granite preparation slab, and free your lusus from his confines. You let him perch on your thigh, and pet the top of his head while you think. 

Your situation seems to grow even more perilous by the minute. Already Karkat isn’t the only one who knows your whereabouts. You can’t kill Terezi without resulting in Karkat turning on you to avenge his friend, so you have to hope that he can convince her to keep her trap shut. She’s unhappy about this arrangement that much has been made obvious, but it’s also transparently clear that she’s in love with him. 

Her every motivation since you met her has concerned Karkat’s safety and wellbeing. You have no doubt she has other priorities, but she’s invested in him and risked enough for him that you’re pretty sure she’d be more than just a friend if she could. But according to her, Karkat’s never been in a relationship, at least a concupiscent one, with anyone at all. You still wonder how he managed that, but the question that nags you even more strongly is why. 

He cares about her, although exactly how much you’re not positive, and she knows his secret. Somehow he was able to avoid the drones before, so they wouldn’t have to worry about Karkat being culled and Terezi alongside him when the drone processed their samples. Then you remember the article with all the bits of praise torn out. Is he punishing himself? He could be so self-depreciating that he doesn’t even think he deserves quadrants at all. Fuck. You are rapidly becoming too invested in this. In him. 

You’ve been by yourself just about all your life. You’ve seen other trolls in person of course, but you’ve never had more than a short conversation with one before, since you’re constantly on the move and wary of any pursuers. You’ve never had a friend. Like Terezi said, you used Trollian as a wiggler, but only sparingly, and then, not at all. Practically all of your Trollian conversations were stupid the extreme and landed you in some sort of trouble. 

The first time you used Trollian, it was to contact a high blood you didn’t know, who typed in purple. You were still a young wiggler, and you were far behind on your schoolfeeding. You didn’t realize the gravity of your situation, yet. You knew something was wrong, that you were different somehow, but you couldn’t just let it be. You had to go poking your sniff node into places it didn’t belong. You were just a wiggler, but you were a dumb one. 

You knew from your schoolfeeding about the Hemospectrum, obviously, because it’s the first thing you’re taught after basic skills, and you realized pretty quickly that your color wasn’t on it. At first, you were merely confused. You couldn’t understand why your color wouldn’t be there. Was it possible they just forgot to mention it? And then, your confusion turned into a desire to understand why. Why they deliberately didn’t include your color. 

You realized soon after you discovered you weren’t on the Hemospectrum that it wasn’t normal for your lusus’ blood color to differ from yours. Your schoolfeeding told you the story of how things should have gone, how your lusus should have recognized his blood in you instinctively, and selected you for that reason and that reason alone. He didn’t. You still don’t know why. 

Maybe his wriggler didn’t make it out of the caverns, couldn’t make it through the trials. Maybe he never had one in the first place. Maybe there was a wriggler waiting for him that he abandoned for some reason and selected you instead. You don’t really like to think about that possibility. You like to think he picked you because he knew you needed him and that you were right for each other. 

Either way, you knew you were different, but you didn’t know why, couldn’t understand what it meant. You made a mistake in not sticking to schoolfeeding to learn new things. You were impatient to learn about yourself, and everything you learned felt useless and stupid. If you hadn’t stopped watching, maybe when you got to the schoolfeeding on mutants, you wouldn’t have made the mistake that would change your life. You looked to another troll for help. 

You bypassed Troll Google. You wanted to talk to someone. Anyone. Someone who could tell you what this meant. That’s how you discovered tentacleTherapist. She offered her services to anyone who lacked a moirail or a decent hatefriend. The client would talk, explain their problem, and she would attempt to understand and help them overcome it. She was far, far too young to be doing this. She was way in over her horns. Of course, neither of you knew, at the time.

turntechGodhead [TG] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] at 17:14

TG: hey

TT: My, my, not one word in and we already have a fascinating development.

TG: what

TG: I just said hey

TG: you cant have gotten anything from that

TT: Tell me about that color, dear.

TG: oh

TG: actually thats sort of why im talking to you in the first place

TT: That’s no problem at all.

TT: Simply select a different color.

TT: Really, I understand wanting attention but choosing that shade is not the way to go about it.

TT: It just leads to complication and confusion when you’re attempting to form relationships if you aren’t upfront with your status.

TG: you think I should change my color

TG: change it to what

TT: Your blood color, of course.

TT: That is what is customary on Trollian, if you were not already aware.

TG: this is my blood color

TT: … 

TT: Are you perchance color blind? 

TT: At worse you are a very bright rust.

TT: It is nothing to be ashamed of. 

TT: Actually, it is possible for highbloods such as myself to fall into pity with one so low.

TT: As long as you aren’t begging for it, it practically can’t be helped.

TT: It is very hard not to pity someone in your unfortunate situation, if you play your cards right.

TT: And of course, it is quite common for highbloods and lowbloods to become involved in a pitch relationship.

TT: That, I hope, is rather self-explanatory.

TT: As long as you are appealing to the oculars, and have some redeeming qualities about you, I am sure you will have no trouble finding yourself decent quadrantmates.

TT: And if you are lucky enough to find highbloods such willing to fill them, you can overcome quite a lot of obstacles, even with your less than stellar blood color.

TG: wow

TG: thanks

TG: but uh pretty sure im not color blind

TG: and im also pretty sure i know what rust looks like

TG: my blood is exactly this shade of red

TT: That shade does not exist.

TG: it does

TG: its mine

TG: i dont get why no one wants to talk about it

TG: not even the schoolfeeds talk about it

TG: why

TG: whats so wrong with it

TT: Merciful Messiahs.

TT: I’m afraid I must block you.

TG: no wait please

TG: i just want an answer

TT: Watch the school feed entitled “Cripples, Mutants, and More.”

TT: Do not attempt to contact me again.

TG: but

TT: Goodbye. 

tentacleTherapist [TT] blocked turntechGodhead [TG] at 17:22

It could have been so much worse. She could have reported you right then and there, and you were so young then, you would have died, no questions asked. Still. It hurt. It hurt that this nameless highblood refused to speak with you. She was supposed to help anyone who asked. She lied. It wasn’t her fault. She was too young, and you were too much. 

You watched the schoolfeed. A cheery midblood popped up on your screen. You remember distinctly the shape of her horns, straight up then curling out at the ends, like stylized antennae. _“Hello, and welcome to schoolfeeding Lesson 23, based on Edict 24E by Her Imperial Condescension. This message has been approved and funded by Our Glorious Empress, and the Alternian Education, Reeducation, and Information Control Board. AERIC, protecting us from what we don’t need to know!”_

With that message from the sponsors concluded, the bubbly woman continues. _“Without further ado, ‘Cripples, Mutants, and More!’ Now, as you all know, the Hemospectrum is what sets us apart and dictates our place in our glorious Empire. We all have special gifts and talents, and jobs suited for our needs and our blood color!_

_There are some of us though, that are just not cut out for life among the greatest of our Empire. We try our best to weed out these individuals as early as possible. It’s for their own good. They are just not cut out for life on our planet, and they will only hurt themselves trying. These trolls unsuitable for the Alternian lifestyle fall under the broad categories of Cripples, Mutants, and Criminals.”_

A graphic of a miserable looking troll in a wheelchair popped up on screen. _“Cripples have physical or mental problems that make them unfit and incapable of surviving on our planet. They are generally fairly easy to spot, and-”_

You skipped forward to the next section. You knew for certain you weren’t a cripple. At this point, you still didn’t understand why tentacleTherapist wanted you to watch this feed. Then, of course, you watched the section on mutants. 

The word “Mutants” appeared on the screen written in a thick black font, and you leaned in, interested. _“Now, mutants are not always on our cull list. In fact, there are some mutations that are beneficial to the Empire, and so can be overlooked. But, of course, these are only exceptions to the general rule, and these useful mutants are very rare. Mutants come in all shapes and sizes, with much variation in mutation. But, generally, we can stick by the golden rule: ‘If it helps us succeed, then let them breed! If their buckets aren’t full, they deserve the cull!’_

 _There is one very important exception to this golden rule. And that is mutants with blood color mutations.”_ You remember distinctly the full body shiver that ran all the way through you, but somehow, you kept watching like a moth mesmerized by the light, too entranced to think of the danger to come. _“Citizens of our most magnificent Empire, it is of utmost importance that our way of life is preserved. Our system keeps our Alternia strong, and allows us to continue to conquer those weaker than us._

_We cannot afford to doubt our way of life for one second. This is the way it always has been, how it is, and how it always will be, and that is what keeps us safe. Rescues us from the bleak fate that lies ahead if we dare to bite the hand that feeds us, and fight against everything that our Empress has striven to provide for us._

_The Hemospectrum is the glue that holds our planet together. There are some mutants that would defy the spectrum. They have no place among us. They are outside our system, but they wish to join us.”_ The woman on the screen seemed to stare at you dead on. She looked inside you, laser gaze fixated on the blood-mutant, mutant!-that was coursing through your veins. 

_“This must never be allowed to happen. These mutants are by far the most dangerous, because they threaten the very nature of our race and the way we understand our place on our great planet. They give us false ideas about what we are capable of. No rust blood can hope to become a Laughassassin. No yellow blood would dare become a Subjuggulator. No troll of royal violet should have to dirty their hands doing grunt work, instead of reaching the potential afforded to them by their position. And no mutant that has the gall to challenge this way of life shall live.”_ You shook and shook, and when your lusus found you crying like the wiggler you were you shouted at him and shooed him away. 

“Why? Why the fuck did you choose me? Why didn’t you let me die?” 

You tried to sob loud enough to drown out the teachenforcer out, but you could still hear her bubbly voice. _“Remember! If you or someone you know is on the cull list, please, do everyone a favor and report them. It’s the humane and kind thing to do!”_ You turned the feed off. You were four sweeps, and you were already painfully, horribly aware of the grim fate that was yours by birth right. 

You adjust your shades, and coax your lusus onto your shoulder. You know you’ve been thinking too long and too hard when your thinkpan starts delving into old, painful memories. You have that shit shoved so far back in your pan it’s almost nonexistent. 

Time to bite the bullet and see what Terezi and Karkat are up to. You gave them a few minutes of privacy, but whether you’re going to live to see tomorrow is directly related to whatever decision they come to in there, and you intend to find out whether or not you’re going to have to fight for your life again tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the feedback and support so far I really appreciate it!
> 
> I'd like to make clear before anyone asks that Rose is not a "evil" character. By which I mean, she does feel some regret and remorse and she will be playing a larger role in this AU. All will be revealed in time.


	4. Chapter 4

When you get to the recreation block, Karkat is already tending to Terezi’s injury. Apparently she insisted upon not going to see a docterrorist, so Karkat took it upon himself to stich her up. Luckily for her, it doesn’t look like you broke anything or punctured anything major. She looks like she’s in a lot of pain though, and he keeps having to pap her in between stitches, presumably so she doesn’t freak the fuck out and mess up his stitching.

“There,” he says, as he finishes, “There, see, let it never be said that thresh medical training didn’t teach us to deal with moderate combat injuries.”

Terezi just shakes her head, and without turning her head says, “Daeyvh. Join us.”

Karkat looks up in surprise; apparently lacking Terezi’s frankly really fucking creepy abilities. He waves you over to the reclining seating platform and you sit reluctantly, grateful at least that Karkat’s sitting in between you and Terezi.

Terezi laughs, not unkindly, and says, “I am not going to take you to His Honorable Tyranny Daeyvh, so stop smelling so tense. Karkat has made his decision, and while it is undoubtedly one of the worst choices he could have made, what is done is done, and I will support him.”

“Smelling…” You mutter. “What.”

“Oh thanks.” Karkat grumbles. Apparently he didn’t hear you. Figures. “Your vote of confidence means so much to me. Such unfaltering support.”

“Oh shut up,” Terezi says, and rams a bony elbow into his side.

“Ow! Fucking watch it Terezi.” Karkat looks like he’s two seconds away from ramming her back, and then thinks better of it. “Don’t tear your stitches.”

“I know my limits, Captain.” Terezi huffs, but obediently lowers her arm slowly back to her side. She hops off the reclining seating platform, and puts a hand over her blood pusher. “I, Terezi Pyrope, do solemnly swear to tell lies and nothing but convincing lies to my superiors in the matter of Daeyvh Strider and his whereabouts, so help me god.”

Karkat groans. You marvel at this girl. She deserves some sort of award. 'Creepy and Weirdest but somehow really awesome Legislacerator of All Time Award?' Yeah, sounds about right.

“Right.” She says, and wraps the floor with her cane. “Daeyvh, it was a pleasure facing you in combat. If you’ll excuse me, I have a Troll Law and Order marathon to catch.” With that, she waltzes out of the block.

“Wow.” You say.

Karkat tries hard not to laugh and makes this really unattractive snorting sound. “Welcome to my fucking life.”

Beyond the mishap with Terezi, you settle in pretty easily at Karkat’s hive. Usually he’s out on the job from early evening until a few hours before sunrise during the week, but you don’t mind much. You’re used to being alone with your lusus all the time, and now you actually have shit to do around the hive instead of trying to entertain yourself in the middle of nowhere.

When Karkat is around, he tells you stories about what he’s had to deal with that particular night. He complains a lot, but it’s obvious he likes his squad and his job, and not for the first time, you are really motherfucking jealous.

Karkat’s clearly trying to make you feel more welcome in his hive, and when he gets back from his threshecutioners duties, he’ll consent to having his ass kicked in video games, or let you ramble on about how much his movies suck while he’s trying to watch one of his favorites. Sometimes things are awkward between you, and you’re pretty sure he’s trying a little too hard to make sure you’re comfortable, but it’s the happiest you’ve been since…forever, pretty much.

Karkat takes you to see his tailor the next night, who happens to be another fucking friend of his that seems to know his secret. She’s pretty high up there too, not as high as Terezi, but jade bloods have their special duty to the mothergrub and all, which affords them some status perks. Kanaya turns out to be a startling beautiful and witty companion, and though Karkat comes to her with “your symbol,” which the two of you had collaborated on the night before, with the explanation that you’re from the country and your shirts don’t fit well anymore, Kanaya doesn’t ask questions, even though that’s the shittiest excuse ever. Even a country rustie should know to have his symbol on him at all times, and if you were really a rust blood, you’d have a supply of shirts with your symbol on them.

You get the sense though that Kanaya doesn’t really give a shit about the Hemospectrum. She treats Karkat like an equal, like a good hatefriend of higher status sometimes does in movies, but never actually does in real life. She doesn’t ask you any questions, starts working on your shirt as soon as you’re measured, and treats you well. She does say that you need to eat more though, and when you flip her off, she just laughs and doesn’t stop etching your new symbol in rust on a shirt your size.

Your symbol. You’ve never had a symbol before, and even though the color is off and that bugs you, it feels nice to have one. It reminds you of a record, reminds you of owning a record, owning something, and you like it. You like it a lot.

After Kanaya finishes making you a couple of shirts with your symbol on them, Karkat even agrees to let you run around the city sometimes. You don’t do it often, because that’s a surefire way to get found out and you aren’t really comfortable around crowds either. This way, though, it seems less suspicious, and Karkat gave you some money so you can actually buy things. You don’t purchase anything with it though. You’re sorely tempted, especially when you see these sweet ass shades through a shop window, but no, it’s safer to keep it, just in case you need it later.

Of course, your relatively peaceful new lifestyle wasn’t meant to last. With your fantastic luck, it’s pretty much a guarantee that if you’re actually happy, and you’ve maybe found a guy that you’re starting to consider a friend, who understands a lot about you that you thought no one would, well, something’s bound to go wrong eventually.

You’ve been staying in Karkat’s hive for a little more than half a pedigree. Karkat is going through the mail while you eat your high moons meal. He’s off duty tonight, so the two of you are probably going to be sorting through his mess of game grubs to find something interesting to play later on. Your lusus is being an asshat and keeps dipping his beak near your food and stealing some while you aren’t looking. Karkat flips through the mail at high speed, until suddenly he stops, and comes over to set the pile down on the counter top. Except one. He looks at that small, thin envelope like he’s convinced a particularly contagious and fast-moving member of the undead is going to pop out of it. He stares at the envelope so intensely you’re half convinced it’ll burst into flames by the sheer force of his gaze.

It’s not surprising he’d get a letter. When Trollian contact isn’t available for some reason, letters are pretty commonly used to express information, and because superiors don’t want those under them to be bugging them on Trollian all the time, letters are often used to convey assignments. Fuck, you hope he doesn’t have to ship off planet. It’d be really awkward to be chilling in his hive by yourself. Still the way he’s reacted to it has piqued your interest.

You watch him stare at the letter, even though you can see out of the corner of your eye that your lusus is trying to make off with a piece of your musclebeast burger. As long as he doesn’t mess with any more of your grub leg fries, you’ll let him be. Karkat studies the sender’s address for way longer than it takes to read three lines of text, before carefully ripping the envelope open, and removing the letter at an agonizingly slow pace. His eyes flit along the paper, and then suddenly, he looks up from the letter at you.

“What?” You say, and pretend you weren’t spying on him this whole time.

“Your lusus is making off with your burger, Strider.” He says, which in no way answers your question.

“Yeah, I noticed. What’s in the letter?”

“I don’t know.” He says, and hands the letter to you.

“Dude. You are not a wriggler. I’m not going to read this letter to you.”

You can see his facial muscles twitch. You think he’s trying to restrain a frown, or maybe a head shake at your stupidity. It’s hard to tell. “The letter’s for you.” He says, and your stomach drops.

“What.” You croak, and look straight ahead, not glancing down at the letter, suddenly as freaked out as Karkat was a minute ago. “I don’t have friends. No one knows I’m here besides you and Terezi.”

“Well, _someone_ knows you’re here, and not only that, a _subjuggulator_ knows you’re here. God, I don’t know how they could know. I was so fucking careful. We’ll have to arrange a safehouse for you, which means I’ll have to bargain with my superiors, since normally they’re reserved for conducting legisclacerator interviews, holding prisoners before a trial, and sometimes they’re used by highbloods that feel threatened or something. Showing up and telling them they have to house a rust blood just because he needs it will go over really well. But, if you disappear for a while, maybe they won’t show up and crack our skulls open.”

He’s pacing, frantic, back and forth, and he’s practically tearing his hair out. “You could stay with Terezi or Kanaya. That might be easier to arrange. But no, if they know you’re here they might just as easily know about them too. Fuck, I’ll have to warn them.”

“Relax, we don’t even know what it says yet.” You aren’t relaxed at the least, but his panic is just fueling your own, and you don’t need that right now. You need a level head if you’re going to deal with a problem this big. God dammit, why the fuck did you come here? It was safer on the run.

“Relax?” He snaps, “They know you’re here. They could show up at any moment and cull us both!”

“I know that,” You say, a touch testier than you meant to. “Hold your fucking hoofbeasts and let me read this letter. There’s no use freaking the fuck out until we know what they know.”

“Yeah, okay.” Karkat says, and sits down heavily across from you at the wooden consumption slab. 

The letter is written in a truly impressive hand. My god, someone aced their penmanship schoolfeeding, and it sure as hell wasn’t you. It reads:

Dear Captain Karkat Vantas of the Alternia Threshecutioner Corps,

Please pass this letter to your current housemate, Daeyvh Strider. I would have addressed the letter to him, but you can see why that would have been a very dangerous and inconspicuous move on my part. My apologies for making you my messenger in this roundabout way. Ignore the Sensitive Assignment stamp on the front of the envelope. That was simply a means to guarantee this letter would not be opened and perused by the wrong eyes. Please convey this letter to Daeyvh Strider at your earliest convenience, but don’t tarry too long, as it is of some urgency that he receives my message.

Thank you.

P.S. It is quite the honor to be writing to you, abet under these odd circumstances. As you are no doubt aware, you have become something of a minor celebrity as of late. I especially enjoyed your appearance in Hatestud magazine recently, which I understand was due to your mischievous co-workers. I do hope you weren’t too hard on them, as the photos of you they selected were, in fact, quite flattering.

Oh my fucking god.

Thankfully, the next part is addressed to you.

Dear Daeyvh Strider, who has no title but that of Fugitive,

Hello. I am sure you are quite shocked to have received this letter. Do try not to panic unnecessarily.

Whoops, did that already.

My name is Rroesz, and as you may have gathered already, I am a subjuggulator. Before you jump to any hasty conclusions, you surely know I was born into my position by virtue of my blood color, and though my profession has what you might call “a bad rap”, I assure you it is not my intention to reveal your current location to anyone who might wish you ill.

In fact, though you may find this hard to believe, I have contacted you in order to offer my assistance to you. If ever you need protection or a place to hide for a while, I can offer you both, and I have plenty of space for Vantas too, if it comes to that.

Allow me to sweeten the deal. You must be wondering what I could possibly get out of such an arrangement with you, as I would be putting my own life at risk by protecting you. Although you do not know me, we have been in contact once before. You may not recall our conversation, but I am certain somewhere in your pan remains the Trollian handle tentacleTherapist. My behavior towards you is something I have regretted in the many sweeps since.

I know this is not so much a bargaining chip as it is information to be used for revenge, as reporting me to the authorities would by no means stay you execution, but as you no doubt recall, by allowing you to live that day and remaining silent about our encounter instead of reporting our conversation to the authorities, I placed a noose around my neck just as I loosened the noose around yours, however imperceptibly. I will give you the records of our conversation, and were I to betray you you could use this evidence to convict me of harboring and protecting a mutant.

You may not believe anything I have told you. I cannot blame you for being suspicious. Rest assured that if you do not accept my offer, I will not attempt to convince you to change your mind, by force or otherwise. Know that my offer of assistance still stands at all times, unless I have had an unfortunate accident and leave this plane of existence behind. I do hope you will do your utmost to at least consider my offer, as it would be beneficial for you to have somewhere to hide if things were to go sour. My hive is isolated and out of the way, and a subjuggulator’s hive is the last place the authorities would look for a fugitive.

I would appreciate a return letter to reject or accept my proposal. Please use Karkat’s name and address on the envelope, as using yours is a move too scatterpaned for anyone who has survived this long as a mutant.

Warmest regards,

Rohesz Llonde

“What the absolute fuck.” You say aloud, and Karkat jumps a little in his seat.

“What did it say?” he says, already starting to panic again. “What does she know?”

“She wants to help.” You say. It sounds like a question even to your own ears. Whatever she says, this is unbelievable, and you did not get this far in life by trusting a highblood.

Karkat seems to agree. His frown is deeper now than it was when he thought the two of you were going to have to leave his hive. “You’re not actually going to write back and accept her, are you?”

“No.” You say. “The best thing to do is just pretend this thing got lost in the mail.”

Karkat shakes his head. “No, if you do that she might actually show up here in person.”

You shudder. “So what, I should reply and tell her fuck no? She’s a subjuggulator how do we know she isn’t going to completely lose it and have a highblood temper tantrum? Plus, replying is pretty much conforming she’s right about where I’m hiding.”

“Fuck.” Karkat says empathetically. “Son of a lusus fucker. This is more complex than I thought.”

“Did you honestly think it was going to be easy? You were just going to sneak me into my hive, get me some fake rust symbol and then we’re home free?”

“Daeyvh. Did you ever wonder how I made it this far? How it’s possible that some of my friends know I’m a mutant and I’m still alive?”

“Yeah, I kind of think about that all the time,” you admit, scratching idly at one of your horns. “I just figured you were a lucky bastard.”

He laughs. It’s a harsh sound, and it doesn’t sound like he’s found what you said funny at all. “I’m going to tell you a story,” he says. “The story of my ancestor.”


End file.
